Dusk And Her Embrace
by Katie Havok
Summary: But so dismal and shabby a place, the apartment too small and with far too many windows for her taste. Oh well, she thought, absently pushing back a stray lock of hair as she squinted against the harsh glare of the sun. It'll get me away from everybody for a while at least. No more culinary disasters compliments of Delia.


First things first: **This fic is old.** I wrote it back in the year 2000 or so, and it was originally published on a now-defunct website called BJ's Fansite. I lost interest in Beetlejuice for a good few years, went on and lived my life — got married, had a kid and everything! — only to come back in the summer of 2017 and use the Wayback Machine to get all the old drafts for this and my other Beetlejuice stories.

I icringed/i upon re-reading them the first time but decided to limit the reach of my revisionist's pen for the sake of preserving their place in Beetlejuice fandom history. I elected to clean up many of the technical issues, but keep the bones of the story the same. Those of you who know me from Fantastic Beasts will see the foundations of the writer I am today, even if she was still struggling to figure out the intricacies of human sexuality and consent issues.

Finally, this is a mix of movie and 'toon verse, with elements of both to be found throughout.

* * *

Beetlejuice eased the weighed-down car to a stop before the building that held Lydia's new apartment, a large brownstone structure that squatted along the edge of the four-lane blacktop spread like a river before it. Releasing an unnecessary pent breath, he reached over to shake Lydia's shoulders, speaking excitedly in an attempt to rouse her.

"Babes? C'mon babes, wake up. Were here!" He jangled the keys loudly in her ear, cackling as her eyes flew open and glared menacingly at him. Lydia spent a few moments yawning and orienting herself to her surrounding before unfolding her lithe frame and stepping out of the car's door to look at the building that was her new home.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Lydia gave a sigh at the unimpressive sight, situated too close to the road and with train tracks running behind it. But it was home, and it was all she could afford on her meager salary. It was good enough for now, and not only that, but the building had a wonderful name. The brownstone structure was called "The Morgue" by people who lived in the area, and when Lydia had taken a tour of the place the name itself was enough to convince her this would be her future home.

But, so dismal and shabby a place, the apartment too small and with far too many windows for her taste. _Oh well_ , she thought, absently pushing back a stray lock of hair as she squinted against the harsh glare of the sun. _It'll get me away from everybody for a while at least. No more culinary disasters compliments of Delia._

Her silent musings were interrupted by the blare of a horn and a harsh squawk of surprise. Whirling, a giggle was quickly smothered as Beetlejuice stood, looking vaguely bewildered before realizing his folly. Being unused to such surroundings, he had opened the driver side door without first checking the mirror, and as a result, the door had almost been surgically removed by a passing truck, nearly taking Beetlejuice with it.

He blinked in surprise for a moment as the driver of the truck leaned on the horn and pugnaciously stuck his head out the window, his hand curled into a fist as he hurled a string of nonsense curses in Beetlejuice's direction. Not to be outdone, Beetlejuice quickly recovered and further inflamed the driver's ire by simply smiling pleasantly and raising his middle finger in an ancient phallic symbol of insult.

Turning, Beetlejuice gave Lydia a look of false woe before returning his finger to its rightful spot, shaking his head slowly. "Geez, Babes, and I thought New Yuck City was bad. This place is horrible, so filthy and vile. I like it already."

Giggling, Lydia retrieved the keys from the ignition before Beetlejuice unwittingly locked them in and opened the door to the overflowing backseat, pulling a large box out and placing it squarely in Beetlejuice's arms. He pretended to stagger under the weight, or at least she _hoped_ he pretended, before shaking his head one last, rueful time and starting toward the building.

Fetching a smaller box herself, Lydia followed and opened the gate with the magnetic security key, leading the way through the dark, narrow halls. The key and the lock didn't get along at first, but after some gentle persuasion, she managed to pry the door open and stepped into her new apartment.

It was unimpressive. The walls, once white, were aged to a dirty yellow, and the glass in the windows had large blobs of old paint clinging to them. The floor was positively _ancient_ tile, cracked and pitted, warped and stained. The apartment smelled of old greasy food and something else, something she would rather not have known but suspected to be rancid meat.

Setting her box down in the center of the tiny living room, she heaved a gusty sigh as Beetlejuice followed suit. Rising, he glanced around the apartment with a critical eye before a sly smile curled his lips. "Babes, you know I'd love a place like this, but this ain't no environment for you. Whaddya say we go and get some paint and—" here he gave a delicate shudder, nose wrinkling in distaste "—cleaning supplies?"

Lydia smiled her first real smile of the day, before glancing around once more. Yes, paint and a good cleaning may help redeem the apartment some, but she felt a wrecking ball would do much better. Shrugging and making mental note not to say her thoughts aloud lest Beetlejuice act upon them, Lydia nodded in agreement and congratulated herself for having the insight to bring some spare cash with her.

Together, they trudged down the stairs and brought up the rest of the boxes. Securely locking the apartment behind them, Beetlejuice drove around the big city until a hardware and supply store yielded itself to them.

At first, Lydia thought she would paint the walls a basic white and be done with it, but once the paint samples were revealed she knew white was simply not feasible. Instead, she went with a multitude of hues—lavender for the kitchen, a soft mauve for the living room and hallway, and deep red for her bedroom. The paint went for cheaper than she had expected, and as Beetlejuice caused trouble in the nail aisle, she paid and proceeded to drag her ghoulish friend from the angry shopkeeper.

The drive back to the apartment went much quicker than she expected, thanks in part to the lead that had settled in Beetlejuice's right foot, and ten minutes and many minor traffic violations later, they screeched to a halt and clamored out. Whistling innocuously, Beetlejuice loped into the apartment and immediately pounced upon the boxes, rummaging viciously as Lydia stood by laughing until she could stand it no longer.

"Beej, what on earth are you doing?"

He glanced up at her, tongue poking from the corner of his mouth and eyes wild. "Hold on, Babes, almost go it!"

"Almost got what?"

"Shhh, you'll find out!"

" _Beej…_ " A warning.

"Ah-hah!"

Grinning triumphantly, Beetlejuice withdrew Lydia's little Sony stereo and plugged it in before continuing to tear the boxes apart. He finally came up with her sleek black CD case and nested his chosen disk into the spinning tray. The lack of electricity baffled him for a moment until, with a cackle, he juiced the outlet, causing music to blare from the speakers.

Still laughing wildly, he jumped up and grabbed Lydia's arms, swinging her around to the heavy racket and yelling to be heard over the noise. "We can't clean house without music, babes, can we?" Laughing, Lydia couldn't help but agree, and after turning the volume down to a level that wouldn't cause her ears to bleed, she proceeded with cleaning as Beetlejuice wandered off.

The heavy cleaning chemicals proved to be a Godsend. Simply washing the floor in the kitchen took nearly an hour, and as the years of ground in grime and dirt peeled away, she took a moment to wonder where Beetlejuice had wandered off to before he reappeared, leaning casually in the doorway and giving her an aloof, slightly amused grin. His sudden appearance was enough to cause the mop to slip from her hands, and as it clattered to the floor she covered her mouth in surprise.

Blinking, Lydia gaped until her manners returned. Bending to retrieve the mop she couldn't help but smile as, unbidden, an admiring wolf-whistle slipped past her lips. In their years of companionship, Beetlejuice and Lydia had been through almost everything two people can go through. Lydia had gotten used to her obnoxious ghost friend, growing to know him so well that nothing he did anymore caused her to so much as bat an eyelash. This, however, was quite amusing and rather unsettling.

While he was gone, Beetlejuice had changed from the striped suit and fuchsia shirt he wore to seed, to an outfit that was surprisingly flattering. In place of the well-worn and thin shirt and jacket was a long sleeve black T-shirt, the sleeves pushed past his elbows to reveal surprisingly strong, if rather sinewy, forearms. The striped slacks and boots had been ousted for a pair of black jeans and matching sneakers, and his wispy, pale blonde hair had been pulled back from his receding hairline into a ponytail, held in place by a thin black elastic.

Sometime between Lydia graduating college and moving here, he had lost a considerable amount of weight, and now with the black clothes, his newly lightened body and his face fully revealed, he would have been considered handsome by some were it not for the green teeth and blue skin.

Lydia's appreciative gaping was more than enough to convince him he had not made a foolish move by surprising her with the new clothing. Unfolding his arms, he walked across the kitchen and into the living room, selecting the mauve paint and prying the lid open. As much as he hated any form of work, or cleaning, or anything that required too much physical activity, Lydia _was_ his best friend, and he had sworn to help her. So, dipping his brush into the paint and starting in a far corner of the room, he kept his acid comments at bay and began the tedious task of covering the aged yellow.

Fully immersed in the world of applying paint and laughing at the lyrics to the song, the movement from the corner of his eye almost went unnoticed. Turning his head slowly, the paint-brush nearly fell from his hand at the vision before him, causing his chest to fill with an indiscernible emotion.

Lydia, in a rare mood of silliness most likely brought on by exposure to all the fumes, was dancing, singing to the music while twirling seductively around the mop handle. Beetlejuice felt his jaw fall open as he watched, his hand frozen in mid-stroke as Lydia's body swayed, her small hips wiggling as her eyes flashed fire and her hair gleamed deep sapphire.

Unaware of her fascinated audience, she threw her head back and whipped it side to side in an inhibitionless display of musical rapture, small but lush red lips parting seductively as she sang at the top of her lungs.

" _Countess swathed in ebony_

 _And snow-white balletic grace_

 _Rouge-filmed lips procure the wish_

 _For lust and her disgrace…_

 _Dusk and her embrace."_

Swallowing spastically, suddenly very aware of the pounding within his head, Beetlejuice forced himself to look away, lest Lydia catch him ogling her with his eyes wide and his jaw on the floor. Forcing control over his vapor locked brain, he resumed his steady stroking with the paintbrush before dropping it, suddenly very aware of the hidden innuendo that motion held. Making a sound of disgust deep in his throat, Beetlejuice was careful to keep his eyes diverted from Lydia as he fetched the roller, filling the tray with paint and resuming his silent work.

Yet, while his hands were happily occupied, his brain was a jumble of confusing thoughts. The sight of Lydia dancing and singing to her own rapture was imprinted upon the mirror of his mind, refusing to let go no matter how much he forced images of the Groan Prix and Jacques into his head. Something about the way she moved, the very beauty that painted her every movement and the words to the song seemed to translate itself into his very being, causing within him a rush of desire he hadn't felt in a few hundred years.

 _Oh, yeah, nice job, Romeo!_ He thought angrily. _She's your_ best _friend, and I don't think she'd like the sight of you drooling all over yourself because she's dancin' in the kitchen! So she's dancin'! Big deal! So what if the words were every desire you've ever had, put into song!? So what if she's beautiful!?_ That last thought stopped him in his tracks, and as his arm lowered Beetlejuice felt the sudden, overwhelming desire to bit the corner of his lip, and did so. _Wait, wait_ — _beautiful!? Since when do you think she's beautiful?!_

Brow knitting in thought, he allowed himself one last peek over his shoulder. Yes, Lydia was still dancing with the mop, her slender back turned to him as she writhed. Tearing his eyes away, Beetlejuice bit down with one jagged tooth, hard enough to draw blood if it had been flowing through his long-stilled veins. _Okay, so she's beautiful. Somehow, pal, I don't think necrophilia is quite her taste, just_ — _just chill and keep paintin'!_

There was no mistaking the sardonic edge to his inner monologue, but had he known exactly what Lydia's thoughts had been when she saw him in the new clothing, his doubt may have lifted considerably. Instead, he scoffed at his own unruly mind and passions and resumed his work, going about it much more miserably than he had begun.

It wasn't until dusk had fallen that the apartment was up to Lydia's standards. All that day thoughts of Lydia had nearly driven him to distraction, but now that the need for food was paramount he allowed himself to forget the vision of her and instead began to wonder what form of sustenance he would be forced to endure. Secretly hoping for pasta, Beetlejuice was careful not to get a drop of water on his hands as he cleaned the brushes, and just as he was turning off the water his sharp ears caught Lydia's voice.

"Yes, hello, Napoli's? Yeah, I need an order for delivery…A large pizza, cheese and mushroom, make that extra mushroom…My address? Umm, oh yes, 1474 North Ridge Avenue, apartment 2b. My phone number? (212) 555-1871. Yes, it's a cell-phone…Half an hour? Great, we'll be waiting. Thanks, bye."

Rubbing his hands together gleefully, Beetlejuice strolled into the living room, the stench of fresh paint and Pine-Sol nearly overwhelming his senses. Juicing all the windows open, he finally took his seat beside Lydia, careful not to touch her or get too close as the memory of what he had been privy to returned. For an uncomfortable moment, he wondered desperately what to talk about before Lydia broke the silence, making small talk about the weather before moving on to her plans for the apartment.

"I'm going to make curtains, and when I have the money buy some really nice furniture. The curtains will be black lace, probably spider-web patterned, with blackout shades to keep out the sunlight and everything, and the furniture will be Victorian…"

Beetlejuice tuned out her voice to a constant drone as she spoke excitedly, careful to nod or make a sound of agreement at the right moments, though in reality, his mind was on other matters than furniture. To say that he was wondering what could be done, intimately speaking, on that furniture with Lydia was at the forefront of his thoughts. He was ignorant to what his ponderings were doing to his body, and as he drew his knees against his chest and his breathing became rougher it was the feel of Lydia's hand on his shoulder that nearly caused his skin to become its own separate entity.

Her great eyes were taking him in worriedly, and he noticed the slight moue of concern on her tiny mouth. Fascinated, he watched her lips work slightly, unaware of the words coming from them until a sharp jab in the arm brought him jarringly back to reality. Blinking rapidly, he forced his attention to Lydia's face, only to find _that_ equally bewitching as her lips had been.

"Beej, I said, are you alright? You look strange." Unaware of his struggle, Lydia lifted her hand and passed it over his brow, momentarily forgetting he was already dead and could, therefore, not really get sick. The brush of her hand, warm against his cool skin, caused its own problem. Locking his throat against a thin moan, he forced his head to bob in the affirmative and was just going to open his mouth when the doorbell interrupted the uncomfortable moment.

The pizza was wonderful, New York pizza personified, and as they slurped down the messy slices Beetlejuice could forget his thoughts as the new and strange food enticed him. He had pizza before, but never real world pizza. This wasn't as good as what he was used to, but it did hold its own charm, and the mushrooms were delightful. After devouring three-quarters of the pie himself, Beetlejuice leaned back with a contented sigh and loosed his straining button, belching ringingly before he could stop himself.

Instead of the mild scolding he would normally have earned and was thoroughly prepared for, Lydia just giggled in that girlish manner of hers and finished off her slices with gusto. After eating, there wasn't much left to do save go to bed, and as they rose to go their separate ways, something occurred that would change their relationship forever.

The apartment was dark, nothing save the shadowy pall of the streetlights to illuminate the small space, and Beetlejuice didn't think to juice the lights and bring them on. Lydia rose as he did, clasping his hand gently before bidding goodnight and turning away. Just as he was about to leave, a scuffle, loud thump and muffled cry froze him in his tracks. The cry was one of absolute pain, and as all other thought flew out the window, he made haste through the shadowy hall to Lydia's side, to find that her feet had tangled in something.

As he bent to tenderly retrieve her, there was no mistaking the pain in her voice, or the dull glimmer of tears on her cheeks. Holding her against his chest, subconsciously shielding her as he had done so many times in the past, when she was younger and had just been hurt or sick, he carried her to her tiny bedroom and set her down on the army cot that was to serve as her bunk until her bed arrived.

Working silently, he removed her shoes, not missing the wince she produced when his hand grazed her left ankle, and after pulling her socks off, moved up the cot to her side. "Babes, what did ya hurt?"

His voice, rough and grating, sounded out of place and echoed strangely in the small room, but that didn't matter as Lydia shuddered and said weakly, "I twisted my ankle; it hurts bad, and I banged my elbows too."

Suppressing an errant nostalgic smile, Beetlejuice reached down and took her injured ankle between his cool hands, Lydia's gasp of pain fading as he gently rubbed the soreness away. As he worked the injured tarsals, his power flowed through his hands and into her, healing the injury and forcing the pain from her nerves. Soon, her body relaxed against him, and after her breathing had returned to normal and her tears had dried, he moved to sit besides her once more.

Even in the dark room, Lydia's skin glowed bewitching lily, and he could see the small smile playing around her mouth and eyes. He smoothed her raven locks from her forehead and prepared his departing statement, but she spoke before he had the chance. "Geez, Beej, maybe you could heal the rest of me that way." He blinked in surprise before grinning wildly, and when she raised her arms, elbows extended, he was quick to oblige.

His hands rubbed the soreness from the joints with care. He was unaware of what his gentle caress was doing to Lydia until she pulled away and asked something of him in a voice unlike her usual one. "Beej, this is going to sound really silly, but…would you?" Instead of putting the thought into words she raised her elbow again and pointed, her shining eyes and arched brow doing all the explaining for her.

Beetlejuice shrugged good-naturedly despite the sudden cacophony that welled within him, and bent to take hold of her upper arm before dropping a singular soft kiss upon the joint. She gasped silently, her reaction lost on him as she raised her second elbow, and after that was sufficiently kissed she moved her hand down to her knee. With the silence of the room roaring in his ears and his lungs burning, Beetlejuice kissed both her scraped knees before a look of utter seriousness permeated Lydia's features.

When he raised his head, their eyes met, an intangible but not unpleasant heat filling their chests as their gazes locked. When she raised her index finger to her forehead his mouth was quick to follow. Lydia withdrew to her chin, his mouth in tow. And when her finger landed squarely on her lips, he hesitated only briefly before claiming her mouth with his own.

The kiss was soft, the sweetness of her mouth causing his eyes to flutter closed as he fisted the blanket. They stretched it out into a phrase of longing, of sweet desire that demanded fulfillment as he shifted, stretching his frame beside her, never allowing coherent thought any grasp, knowing full well it would cause him to halt the delicious act. He kissed her until the near-frenzy caused them both to separate, panting slightly.

Their eyes me, and not a word passing between them when he lowered his head, teasing her mouth with a delicious brush, catching her lip between his own and kneading slightly before claiming it fully. As he worked her mouth, Lydia's hand rose, tangling in his wisps before freeing them off their restraints. Once the elastic was gone she buried her fingers into the blonde mass, massaging his scalp as he rubbed her flat stomach gently, tentatively, almost religiously.

Reluctantly dragging his mouth away from hers, smelling the scent of her desire and her breathing a rush in his ears, Beetlejuice lost his face in the soft hollow of her neck as he fumbled with the ties of her shirt. She shifted to grant him easier access, and as he wrestled with the knots she slipped her hands inside his T-shirt, squeezing his chest before raking her fingernails down to his navel. There was no mistaking the way his body twitched, and as her shirt peeled away to reveal the vast expanse of her soft flesh she did it again until his hands upon her wrist forced her to stop.

His hair tickling her nose, Beetlejuice eased her down and puffed softly into her ear, "Just lay back, and don't move. This one's for you, Lyds." His cool breath washing over her shoulder produced a not unpleasant chill as she breathed assent, one that was soon punctuated by goosebumps when he leveraged himself over her.

The soft roundness of her breasts were encased in a lacy black brassiere, one with a convenient front-closure, and his trembling hands proved themselves to be quite deft. Unhooking her bra, he pushed the gauzy material away, reverently revealing her curves to his widening eyes. He stared in vague wonder, well aware of the reaction the sight caused within him before he raised his red-tipped hands and caught the flesh firmly but gently with his palms, kneading the firm swells.

Her body writhed gently beneath him as he touched her, silently demanding more, and after long, teasing minutes of his slow and deliberate torture, he lowered his head and caught one pink, pebbly nipple delicately with his mouth. Holding it between his teeth, he raised the nub slightly before wrapping his lips around it and sucking, her strangled gasps his reward as her body continued its incessant writhing. Releasing her with a wet pop, he caught her nipple between his fingers and continued to massage as his mouth kissed a slow path to her other side.

Coherent thought tried to interfere, but his mind was only able to produce a feeble, _she's your best friend, and she's living, it's just wrong, damnit!—_ before he quelled the voice of reason with his own overwhelming desire. Still nuzzling her breasts, his hand slid slowly down her stomach, pressing against the core of her desire through her jeans before undoing the button and zipper with torturous slowness. Teasing her, he peeled the fabric from her hips, working with the same slowness he had used before, making her pant. The sight of Lydia, spread out before him, still writhing slightly and her breath coming in short gasps, nearly caused him to lose his already tentative grasp on control.

Forcing himself into calmness, Beetlejuice stretched his frame over hers, kissing her hungrily before working his way down, kissing a path over her clavicle, between the swells of her breasts, and over her flat stomach to hover just beneath her navel.

He lingered there, cupping the core of her being with his palm, feeling the heat seeping out of the thin lace of her panties and inhaling the musky scent of her desire. His red-tipped fingers slipped beneath the thin scraps of material that clung to the roundness of her hips before dragging the lace down her shapely legs and past her ankles, to land on the floor along with her shirt and jeans.

He kissed a trail down to her ankles as he tugged, loathe to allow his mouth to lose contact with her for even a moment. Once the barrier was properly discarded he worked his way back up, stopping only once to lave attention upon the fold of her knee, causing her to arch deliriously, before nipping her inner thigh, opening his eyes to stare with rapt wonder at the proof of her desire.

Her nether region was built just as delicately as the rest of her, and it only took three of his fingers to cover the small mound completely. Shoving his momentary doubts to the back of his mind, he strokes her glistening lips gently, her slick moisture allowing just the right amount of friction. Careful not to actually breach her, he rubbed and massaged before working a finger to the tender nub well-hidden within its own fold of skin.

The silken bud grew against the gentle insistence of his touch, and when Lydia's breath began to catch in her throat, he could stand it no more. Moving his hand away, Beetlejuice gripped Lydia's hips, guiding her knees over his shoulders, and slipped between her silky thighs to blow lightly on her heated center. A garbled moan that vaguely resembled his name burst from her lips, the sound going straight to his center.

Lowering his head, he watched her as he ran the flat of his tongue over her longing before probing gently, delving between her slick outer lips to taste the sweeter nectar within. A variety of emotions ran across her face in the dim light, wanton lust complimented by complete ecstasy. Probing deeper into her soft core, he swallowed the evidence of her passion before withdrawing his tongue and using it to find the button that would send her into rapture. Wrapping his lips around the little bud, he suckled it gently, flicking it as she writhed beneath him before giving it complete attention as her cries escalated and her release manifested itself in the soft flutter against his lips.

Her reaction was so intense she tried to squirm away, but instead of allowing it, he gripped her tighter and held her in place, giving her the most adept oral attention he could muster until her wetness became cloying. Finally, after an indeterminate amount of time, she collapsed into a heaving pile, sweat giving her flushed skin a sensual gleam.

Grinning, Beetlejuice gave her one last flick before climbing to his knees, removing his shirt and wrestling with his jeans, tossing them onto the floor. Still licking her essence from his lips, he covered her with himself, supporting his weight over her well-rounded frame as she caught his head and pulled him forward in a desperate kiss.

Breaking away, Beetlejuice stared down at her small body: her flat stomach still twitching slightly, her breasts heaving invitingly, her round hips begging to be gripped, and as he ran one hand the length of her neck, he found that the prospect of what was about to happen excited him beyond measure. Somehow, this strange, beautiful, deliciously soft and hot mortal woman who was also his best friend was doing to him what no ghoul had ever been able to before: make him want to cause her to writhe in pleasure beneath him, without getting anything in return.

His musings were broken by her small, desperate hands on his skin, and remembering his promise of earlier, he leaned down, crushing her breasts between the wall of his chest.

"Babes, relax. You'll get what you have comin' to you." Somehow, in his state of roaring passion, the hidden pun of his words was completely lost on him. Instead, he found her neck to be a deserving recipient of dozens of soft kisses as he positioned himself between her legs, one knee parting her thighs before he rested the tip of his own desire against her willing entrance.

Opening his mouth, he intended to ask where her sexual boundaries lay, but the opportunity never presented itself. Gripping his shoulders for leverage, Lydia lifted her hips and engulfed him with one smooth movement, her sheath stretching around him, causing the world to spin before his eyes as his breath caught in his throat. Overwhelmed by sensation, he rested his head on her shoulder, eyes closed and trying desperately to regain the control that was slipping from his grip before Lydia once more made it known that she wanted everything he had to offer.

With a sound somewhere between a whimper and a moan she lifted her hips, rocking her weight against his, and that was enough to bring him back from his stupor. Supporting himself on his elbows, Beetlejuice raised his head and caught her mouth firmly, rocking against her in smooth, firm strokes that caused both of them to dissolve into a flurry of shivers. Keeping pace, he shifted to lower his hand, catching the hot flesh of her breast as her soft cries of pleasure rang in his ear.

Suspended somewhere between reality and dreams, the two beings from separate sides of the glass came together in a passion as old as time, an act intended only for those who wish to, through the deed, bring their souls close enough to brush.

Drawing his mouth from hers, suppressing a groan, Beetlejuice lowered both arms and caught her legs, urging them around his waist. She locked her ankles firmly behind him, and the new position granted his stroke new depth, the barrier of her womb at the very apex of his delving. Hissing, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and surrendered to her, completely and fully.

There was no suppressing the small sounds that passed his lips, no restraining her cries of passion or the fingernails that carved their way down his back. His pace increased as he held her close, and when her second release struck her, he clamped his mouth over hers, swallowing her cries as her body shuddered, until she fell limp beneath him.

Moving with surprising dexterity, Beetlejuice held her carefully and flipped them, landing on his back. Her surprise was obvious, and she paused in confusion before catching the idea. Arching so her hair tickled his legs, he watched through passion hazed eyes as she rode him, her breasts demanding a hand he was happy to supply, her cries unhindered by his mouth or shoulder. She adjusted her pace when he gripped her hips, pressing herself fully against him and grinding, then raising up only to slide back down with delirious slowness. The sly torture slowly drove him mad, and just as they were both on the verge of losing control, he moved again with that surprising quickness and landed Lydia on her back once more.

He used his knees for leverage as he drove into her, sweat standing on her skin as her body arched, release driving her to the edge and flinging her over. Her cries rang through his skull, his long-still heart nearly starting anew at the stygian beauty beneath him. Claiming her mouth with brutal intensity, his fingers kneading the skin of her shoulders and hips, Beetlejuice timed his release in perfect harmony with hers, wound together in orgasm as the world shattered around them.

Afterward, he rested his face in the hollow of her neck, catching his ragged breath as Lydia's body relaxed beneath him.

They lay there for an eternity, basking in the afterglow. Eventually, Beetlejuice lifted his head and caught her lips in one last slow kiss before removing the bulk of his body from hers. He stretched besides her, wrapping her frame in his own, pulling the blankets over their forms and watching her through lazy eyes. Her own were closed, that look of complete relaxation and peace still held, and as they snuggled together Beetlejuice rested his head and closed his eyes, letting the calm roll over him, a smile on his face.

Lydia fell asleep eventually, curled around him and nearly purring in her joy, but he stayed awake a while longer, treasuring the angel in his arms and wondering how on earth he would explain all this to Jacques and Ginger. Finally, after nearly an hour of post-intimacy daze, sleep rose and claimed him as well.

As the Sandman did his job, Beetlejuice hummed that familiar tune, the same one he had caught Lydia dancing to earlier, softly under his breath…

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Come find me on Tumblr katiehavok, if that's your thing.


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